


How You Turn My World

by MadameRed



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 'thank god you're alive' sex, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Season Two Compliant, Slight Canon Divergence, blue is very accomodating, fuck in the cockpit, klance being schmoopy and adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 23:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10261922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameRed/pseuds/MadameRed
Summary: Lance is the only one keeping Keith together after Shiro disappears, but a covert mission goes awry and now Lance and his lion are unable to communicate with the rest of the team. Keith is unsure if he's even alive, and the thought of losing first Shiro and then Lance is almost too much for Keith to bear. Fortunately, Lance limps back to him, and he and Keith indulge in emotion fueled, adrenaline laced sex in the cockpit of the damaged blue lion.This is entirely self indulgent smut, sue me. You won't, you love it just as much as I do.





	

Pidge looked up at Keith over the top of her glasses. He was wearing a hole into the floor, pacing as he was. His lips were raw and swollen from chewing on them and she didn’t think that crease would ever work itself out from between his eyes. Sweat was beaded on his forehead. Hunk had tried to approach him when Pidge had first picked up Blue’s signal, but the shattered look on Keith’s face and the tremours of his body had been enough to make him back off. 

“How much longer?” Keith demanded, his voice tense and rough.

“Soon,” she said. Keith snarled, spinning his chair around roughly, storming out of the bridge. 

Allura could deal with leading for now. Shiro should have left it all to her anyway.

Keith blew through the halls of the castleship, only barely resisting every urge he had to punch doors and walls and light fixtures. He was leading Voltron now, he thought bitterly. He had to be _mature_. He had to be _patient_. He had to stay calm while they lost all communications with the Blue Paladin as he fled from a quadrant crawling with Galra spies. The blue lion had sustained damage, though Pidge had been unable to discern how much, and there was radio silence from Lance. Not even so much as a wayward blip of interference from Blue. 

Leading wasn’t an issue. Allura could pilot Black, though she said the black lion merely tolerated her, and understood that this was temporary until they found Shiro. Still, she and the others looked to Keith to make decisions, as they had looked to Shiro. That was the easy part. 

Staying calm while Lance probably died? _No_. 

He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. 

He was certain that the nature of his relationship with Lance was glaringly obvious to everyone else on the team at this point. That they certainly didn’t hate each other, that their weak attempts at rivalry were all just for shits and giggles. What else could elicit such a violent reaction from someone, after all? Lance had been the only reason that he’d dodged a complete mental disintegration after they’d discovered that Shiro had vanished. He’d taken Keith back to his room, turned the lights off, bundled them both into his bed, and packed him against his chest until Lance’s stifling love had cracked the thin shield he’d put up as he wept into his shirt. When he’d woken up, after having passed out at some point, he’d seen the tear stains on Lance’s own cheeks and knew that he wasn’t alone, in any sense. 

Reliving that awful night had brought him to Lance’s door, quite unintentionally. He did beat a fist against this door. A second time. A third and a fourth and a fifth time. His face crumpled and he fell against the door. He could have opened it and gone inside, but if Lance was dead, he didn’t think he could tolerate resting eyes upon a bed that didn’t hold Lance’s snoring form. Couldn’t look at a night stand that had a few errant drops of spilled lube on it from a previous night’s passion. Couldn’t look at Lance’s array of beauty products and know they’d never be touched again. 

The thought of Lance never flashing those eyes at him again, never holding his hand or touching his hair or kissing any inch of his skin ever again was unwelcome in his mind. It was there anyway, and he clenched his fist against it even as it brought tears racing down his cheeks. He punched the door again and debated on whether or not he wanted to go into Lance’s room and burrow under his blankets until he was surrounded by the clean smell of him, or if he could manage to make it back to the bridge to monitor things with the others. His decision was made for him when Pidge’s voice crackled over the castleship’s intercom.

“Blue’s incoming. A minute or two at most,” she said. “Just tell us what you find. If he’s fine, then we’ll just give you two some time.” He could hear the smirk in her voice. 

Keith may have been the guardian of fire, but he might as well have grown wings and flown to the hangar.

He didn’t think he’d ever moved so quickly, skidding through the halls of the castle and sprinting to Blue’s hangar just as the outer airlock was opening. Was Lance doing that? Blue? Pidge? God, he hoped it was Lance. Blue flew in once the doors were opened enough, and Keith thought that if a giant mechanical lion could limp through the air, that’s what she was doing. Her paws dangled listlessly and her yellow eyes flickered. Sparks skittered along her back, and the large gun between her shoulders was bent at a terrible angle. The first airlock door shut behind her, the containment chamber depressurized, and then the inner bay doors opened. Keith was ready to tear his hair out, waiting for Blue to sputter and drift in completely. She dropped to the floor, her head immediately dropping between her paws. Her yellow eyes dimmed and Keith rushed up to her, reaching out to her nose and looking up at her.

“Please, Blue,” he begged, his voice cracking as he rubbed her snout. “Let me in, I -”

Her great maw dropped open, albeit at a skewed angle, and Keith couldn’t even manage to vocalize his thanks before he was climbing inside, heading straight for the cockpit. Steaming pipes hung down, wires were exposed, and smoke hung thick in the air. He ducked under some sort of rubbery tubing and had to shove aside a metal beam that had fallen from the ceiling and was blocking the entrance to the cockpit. 

He wanted to call Lance’s name, but the thought of not receiving an answer paralyzed him with fear.

The empty pilot’s chair literally fused his feet to the floor. 

“L-Lance,” he whispered, his violet eyes wide and wet, his breath nearly drawing to a stop. 

More of that deafening silence, punctuated not by Lance’s cheerful voice or groans of pain, but only by pops and hisses and fizzles coming from Blue’s heavily damaged metal body. He stepped into the cockpit by sheer force of will alone. 

The cockpit was empty. Lance wasn’t in the chair, wasn’t slumped over the dashboard or clutching at the piece of rubber tubing that dangled from the ceiling. Keith took another step forward, didn’t pick his foot up enough and tripped over a piece of dislodged flooring. He stumbled, catching himself on the pilot’s chair. He fell to his knees before it like a sinner at a shrine, begging any blessing from the deity that occupied it. He’d gone down like this before Lance, between his knees, palms on his thighs, knowing that he could only be looking into the face of god. 

“ _Fuck_  -” Keith swore. Another tear raced down his cheek, falling onto the fabric of the pilot’s chair. 

“Babe?” 

Keith whipped his head up so fast he was certain he heard something crack. 

“ _Lance_?” he asked, his voice warbly and cracked, but as loud as he could manage. 

 _“Is he alive?”_ Pidge’s voice crackled over the intercom. Of course she’d been listening the whole time. 

“Ugh, it’ll take more than a few dozen Galra fighters to take down The Tailor,” came the muffled reply, and it was _definitely_  Lance’s voice. Keith cast about wildly, shuffling on his knees to where he thought he heard Lance’s voice. He looked down and there, below the console and covered mostly by a sheet of metal, was the waist, ass, and legs of the Blue Paladin. Keith crawled over and shoved the metal off of him, but Lance was still firmly wedged in a small crossbase beneath the console. 

“Lance?” Keith repeated, breathless and incredulous and so relieved he felt like passing out. 

“I, uh, might be stuck?” Lance answered with a nervous chuckle. 

“What the hell are you even _doing_  under there?” Keith asked, grabbing Lance’s belt and giving it a tug. He slid out a few inches, just enough to maneuver his hand down and wiggle his fingers at Keith.

“Trying to see if I could fix Blue’s legs and the communications,” he said. “No dice. Pull me out, I want a kiss.” Keith grabbed at his hand and pulled, and then Lance was sliding out enough that he could inch himself back and sit up, which proved to be a useless thing to waste his energy on, because Keith launched himself at him immediately. 

Keith’s knees jammed into Lance’s thighs as he shoved his body as close as he could, but he didn’t care. He wound his arms around those broad shoulders, pressed his hand against the back of a head not covered by a helmet, buried his face into a neck that was warm and sweaty and gritty. He breathed in, a great shuddering breath that left him winded anyway, because all he could smell was what he thought he never would again. He felt Lance’s arms wrap around his waist, felt a mouth at his neck, felt eyelashes fluttering against his skin. Keith held on until his legs began to shake, and then Lance hauled him right into his lap, supported him, held him closer. Keith felt Lance bury his face harder into his neck, knew his fingers were digging into his black shirt. 

It may have been minutes, or it could have been several sunny days, before Keith peeled himself away from Lance and sat back to look at him. There was a small cut on his forehead and blood had managed to work its way down his temple, but it was crusted up and dark. A scrape ran across his right cheek and his chin looked bruised, but there seemed to be no worse damage. A tear had rolled down his cheek, right into the cut and it must have burned like hell, but Lance didn’t seem to care. He flashed Keith a brilliant smile as he massaged his waist, dragged his gloved hands up his sides, and cradled his face. Keith tangled his fingers in Lance’s hair and couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. He pressed against the back of Lance’s head and pulled their lips together.

Lance made a noise that Keith had never heard him make before, and it was as erotic as it was heartbreaking. It occurred to Keith that Lance might have thought that he wouldn’t make it back alive, either. Lance’s lips moved against his, warm and dry and familiar enough to moisten Keith’s eyes again. He’d done enough crying for the day, really. He slipped his tongue against Lance’s lips and the blue paladin opened almost instantly with a groaned exhale of warm breath that tasted like the space juice rations that they kept in the lions. Keith’s tongue licked into Lance’s mouth, flicking against his tongue and teeth and gums in teasing little caresses. Lance groaned again, curling his tongue around Keith’s and massaging the slick muscle gently. His thumbs wiped at the drying tear stains on Keith’s cheeks and he pulled back just enough to mumble against his lips.

“Miss me that much?” Lance whispered, opening his eyes and smiling playfully. Keith wanted to glare, but he couldn’t muster one. He touched his forehead to his boyfriend’s, placing his hands over Lance’s, which were still on his cheeks. 

“I thought you left me, too,” he murmured. “All we knew was that two ion cannons hit Blue and then the comms failed.”

“ _I’ll come down and work on Blue,_ ” Pidge said through the intercom. 

“Probably not a good idea,” Lance sang, smirking at Keith and pulling him up as he got to his feet. 

“ _Why_  -”

“ _Ugh, Hunk, don’t -”_

“Because I’m gonna get myself dicked down in a minute,” he murmured. Keith grinned, his chest feeling full and tight, and buried his face against Lance’s neck, licking a hot stripe up to his ear. “ _Ahhn_  - and you might wanna turn the mics off in the hangar, ‘m not gonna be quiet.”

“ _I hate you both.”_ Pidge’s last words were faux-cranky, but there was the distinct muffled clicking of the comm falling silent. Lance laughed as Keith immediately began to back him up into the console. When the holoscreen wasn’t projected, it was a cool metal sheet just waiting for Keith to press Lance into. Lance sat on the console and wrapped those long, long legs around Keith’s waist and drew him close. Keith went more than willingly, nipping and sucking his way up Lance’s neck to wrap his tongue around the shell of his ear. Lance put his hands and arms around Keith’s shoulders and pressed the side of his face against Keith’s head, encouraging him, bringing him closer to his ear.

“I will move every star in every galaxy to get back to you, Keith,” he murmured. Keith’s breath hitched and he swallowed sharply, then grinned widely against Lance’s soft hair. He dragged his face along Lance’s, loathe to break contact, and looked into those deep blue eyes, noses pressed together. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Keith warned. Lance smiled and rocked forward into a slick kiss, one of his hands dropping between them to palm at Keith’s half-aroused cock. 

“Hold me to this too, hot shot,” he hummed. Keith groaned and pressed his lips to the corner of Lance’s mouth. 

“I’m trying to be romantic, you asshole,” he grumbled. 

“You can be as romantic as you want after you’ve _had_  my asshole,” his partner hissed, rolling his hips and trying to find some friction through his armour. The black flight suit didn’t exactly tent, but Keith could feel Lance’s arousal pressing hard against his. Typical Lance, always rushing things; for being so associated with water, he was fiery and tempestuous enough, burning hot and quick and leaving Keith feeling breathless and devastated in his wake. He nipped at Lance’s sharp jawline, forcing his head back and biting at his neck through the flight suit. He tugged the chestpiece up and tossed it aside carelessly. It was already beaten to hell and back, he really didn’t care about it past being grateful that it saved Lance’s life. The blue and white gauntlets came off next, and Keith wasted no time in pulling Lance’s gloves off. He wrapped his own pale hands around Lance’s darker ones and threaded their fingers together, leaning back in and covering his mouth again. He could feel Lance’s thumbs rub little circles against his, and he smirked into the kiss.

“I thought you didn’t want to be sentimental right now,” Keith teased. Lance huffed.

“I-”

Keith glanced up at him from where he was nibbling at the underside of his jaw and he thought he might start crying again. Lance had tears in his eyes again, threatening to spill down dirty, blood stained cheeks. Lance brought his hand up, not letting go of Keith’s, and swiped the back of his hand across his eyes. Keith leaned back up and kissed Lance, gentle but firm, and almost chaste. He knew. Sure, there was the desire they got after missions - lions back in hangars, adrenaline pumping hot through their veins, and they’d fuck like devils. The risk of flying out and engaging enemies in combat always left them fired up and ready to fuck each other through walls. 

This was different. For more than a moment, he thought he’d lost Lance. For more than a moment, Lance probably thought he wasn’t going to make it back to Keith. He could feel his throat growing tight and he clenched his eyes shut harder, squeezing at Lance’s hands. God, he-

Would address feelings later. Later, Keith. 

He rolled his hips against Lance’s suddenly, and Lance opened his mouth with a groan. Keith licked into it, forgetting and relearning every inch of gum and tooth in every movement he made. He’d never get enough of kissing Lance, and didn’t for a minute forget how lucky he was that he was currently kissing him and not sobbing into a pillow. He’d address those feelings later, too. Much later, because Lance was nibbling at his lips and his brain was short circuiting a little. He dropped Lance’s hands and put his hands on his hips, pressing their groins together and slipping his thumbs under the fabric of the flight suit. Lance’s skin was warm and soft, and the rest of his fingers followed his thumbs until he was pressing the shirt up. Lance lifted his arms and Keith dragged the garment from his boyfriend’s body, tossing it away. He stripped his own shirt off and drew Lance back to him. Their chests pressed together, almost too warm from battle and adrenaline, and they groaned almost in unison. Lance kissed him again, suddenly frenzied and fiery.

“Come on babe, fuck me,” he murmured. Keith exhaled sharply through his nose, not breaking the kiss. Lance clawed at his shoulders, blunt nails digging into his skin and no doubt leaving the red lines in his skin that Keith craved. He worked his tongue back into Lance’s mouth and wished that he could live out the rest of his life, right here in this lion, kissing Lance like he’d die if he didn’t. Lance nipped at his tongue and he bit at his lip in retaliation, cracking his eyes open to squint at him. Lance smiled into the kiss, his blue eyes crinkling with mirth. Keith rolled his hips and Lance let out a noise that was half groan and half throaty chuckle that drove Keith wholly wild. 

Keith broke the kiss with a nip to Lance’s lower lip and dropped to his knees, dragging his chest down, licking along as he went. He tugged at the bottom of Lance’s flight suit, pressed his face to the very trapped erection there. Lance’s hips stuttered against him as he continued to mouth at his cock, his hands falling down to unclasp his greaves and letting them clatter to the floor. The boots came off next and Keith couldn’t pull the pants down fast enough. Boxer briefs came down with them and Lance’s cock bounced free, bobbing proudly in front of Keith’s face, demanding all of his attention. 

And god, did it ever _deserve_  it. Lance’s dick was as much a work of art as Lance was; long and a little lean, dark and flushed as prettily as his face was. Keith loved going down on him, loved the heady flavour that invaded his every sense as that cock fell heavy on every inch of his tongue. Loved looking up and not seeing anything but Lance’s throat bobbing and his chin quivering as he tossed his head back and tried not to wake the rest of the ship. He loved catching thick ropes of come on his tongue, on his cheeks and chin. Loved it when Lance licked his face clean while never breaking eye contact. 

But he wasn’t going to play that game this time. He placed one sweet, vulgar kiss on the purpled head of that beautiful cock and tugged at Lance’s thighs until he turned around. With no prompting, Lance bent forward at the waist and presented his ass to Keith, who wasted no time in grabbing two handfuls of that beautiful brown flesh and squeezing, hard. Lance keened and pressed back, encouraging Keith to pull his cheeks apart. Lance was sweaty from battle and adrenaline, but Keith didn’t care. He wasted no time burying his face into Lance’s ass, tongue swiping up his perineum and dancing around his dark pucker. 

“Shit-!” Lance swore, his hips rocking forward and then back again. “Babe, _fuck_ -”

Keith’s tongue circled Lance’s hole, and he pitched forward on his knees to seal his mouth around it, his teeth grazing just lightly as he kissed the hell out of his ass. Keith did his level best to make out with Lance’s asshole, tilting his face and pulling at his cheeks for better access. He could go down on Lance for hours; Lance was an incredible lover, all fire and lightning and seemingly limitless energy that fed into Keith and fueled him further. He came alive when Keith ate him out, and Keith _lived_  for the loud, crackling moans that Lance couldn’t stop himself from making even if the fate of the universe depended on it. Planet X would only continue if Lance could manage to keep quiet while Keith sucked his soul out through his ass? Sorry, Planet X and inhabitants, but death is imminent because Keith’s made 'Making Lance Scream’ his personal Life Quest. And he’s _good_. 

Keith smiled around Lance’s hole as he dipped his tongue past the ring of tight muscle. Lance moaned, throaty and strident, as Keith’s tongue began to fuck in and out, a pale mimicry of what another appendage would be doing soon. He thrust back on Keith’s tongue and pumped his hips back rhythmically. Keith lapped at Lance’s pretty little furrow until his own saliva was dripping down, curving around Lance’s balls and falling from his perineum. Lance hadn’t stopped babbling nonsense, cutting himself off with groans and impatient hisses. Keith withdrew his mouth from Lance’s hole, ignoring the huffed pout from his boyfriend, and gently worked the tip of one finger into him. The saliva provided enough slick for one finger, maybe two, but not for very long. With his free hand, Keith dug a small bottle of Space Lube out of his pocket and quickly popped the cap, dribbling some of it onto Lance’s crack and watching as he shivered. It ran down and slipped around his finger, which he pulled out, circled around the lube, and then pressed back in.

Lance’s hole took it easily, and he impatiently demanded a second. With a reverent kiss to one cheek, Keith acquiesced, pushing a second finger in. Lance moaned loudly, his body shuddering as he pushed back on Keith’s fingers. Keith could do this to Lance for hours, too. Honestly, Keith’s entire Bucket List was comprised entirely of satisfying Lance in every way he could think of, for as long as his lover would tolerate it. He’d suck his dick, eat his ass, finger him, fuck him, be fucked by him - anything, everything, for days. He _loved_  this ridiculous, wild, gorgeous boy and he’d declare loyalty to Zarkon before he ever tried to deny Lance anything. 

He twisted his fingers, pressing down against the tight muscle in little half circles all the way around, working to loosen it. He wanted to take it slowly, stretch him properly, add a third and a fourth finger until Lance was squirming and sobbing for relief in the form of his dick. He pumped them in, curving them downward and ghosting across Lance’s prostate. 

“ _Ahh!_  Okay, c’mon, fuck, babe, I’m good, just fuck me, _please_ ,” Lance begged, shameless and breathy. Keith knew Lance wasn’t nearly as prepped as either of them liked him to be; it was far more Keith’s style to mount Lance just a little too tight, but he supposed that a near-death experience was enough to make even Lance crave some kind of burn. He removed his fingers and, as quickly as his slick fingers could manage, undid his own pants, shoving them down to mid thigh. His own painfully hard cock bobbed free, and he swiped at Lance’s crack to scoop up some of the excess lube; Lance jolted forward with a gasp. Keith smirked, and as he slid the lube over his own cock, he brought his hand down on Lance’s ass with a crack. Lance yelped and straightened in indignation, but the hot flush of his face and the twitch of his cock told another story. His eyes blazed, pupils nearly overtaking his blue irises, and he spun around, eyeing Keith with a predatory gaze. Keith tried not to think of the irony of big cats and prey as Lance all but tackled him to the floor, forcing him down and crawling atop him. 

“Shouldn’t you be exhausted and letting me do all the work?” Keith asked breathily, his hands flirting up Lance’s sides to thumb at his nipples. Lance grinned down at him, gyrating his hips against Keith’s.

“Not for this, tiger,” he murmured, his eyelids fluttering as he grasped at Keith’s cock and guided it to his entrance. Keith was pretty sure he was hard enough to cut diamonds, and he reached down to clamp his fingers around the base of his cock to prevent things from ending too quickly. Lance pushed down with his hips, and the plush head of Keith’s dick slipped inside. Lance swore loudly, an aborted half shout, and rolled his hips down, taking Keith as deep as he could go, swallowing him whole. 

 _God exists_ , Keith thought desperately, _and he put paradise right in Lance’s ass._

His free hand dug into the side of Lance’s ass, trying as hard as he could to keep Lance from squirming and making him blow his load immediately. But Lance was a devil atop him, gyrating his hips and pressing down hard enough to grind his sharp pelvic bones into Keith’s hip bones. 

“ _Lance_ ,” he hissed, scratching his nails into Lance’s soft skin. The blue paladin grinned down at him, rolling his entire body, starting at his shoulders and letting the rest of his body follow until he snapped his hips down. It was slow, languid, torturous, and Keith felt like his soul was trying to evacuate through his dick. He watched as Lance brought his hands up to his body; one hand fluttered up across his nipple and the other fisted in his own hair, pulling on it. Lance was putting on a show for him, knew exactly what drove Keith wild. Keith thumped his head against the floor, clenching his eyes shut. Lance rose up on his knees and sunk back down, giving his hips a little swirl as he went. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lance murmured, tugging his hair back and exposing his throat. Keith wanted nothing more than to lean up and bite at that neck, but he felt a bit like jello for the time being. Lance shifted in his lap, and he finally removed his hand from his own cock and placed them around Lance’s waist. He squeezed gently and tipped his head back down, opening his eyes and soaking in the view. Lance was staring down at him as he rose and fell on Keith’s cock, a sheen of sweat beading across his body. His pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking his irises, and he bit at his lip before he could no longer keep his jaw from hanging open, panting and making beautiful, needy little noises that made Keith weak. Lance rose and fell on his knees, slowing increasing the speed and force of his downward thrusts. 

He finally let out a frustrated groan, stopped moving, and patted Keith’s thigh.

“Bring your knees up,” he instructed breathlessly. Keith obeyed, because what else could he do? He’d have fetched Lance a moon if he’d asked him for one. Lance reclined against Keith’s thighs and groped around behind him, searching for the lube. He found it and grabbed at it, squeezing some out onto his hand and throwing it aside again. He twisted around in Keith’s lap (grinding down a little, making Keith’s eyes roll back in his head) and swiped some lube down each of his thighs. He turned back around and brought his feet out from under him, planting them on the floor. “Hold onto my ankles.” Keith blinked up at Lance, understanding where he was going with this whole production now. He grinned up at him, flexing his fingers around Lance’s ankles, and he braced his arms so that Lance could push back on his hands. 

Lance rose up, his movement aided by the slickness of Keith’s thighs, and he dropped back down. Keith groaned loudly and nearly forgot that he had to apply counter pressure on Lance’s ankles to prevent him from sliding forward. Lance drove himself up and down on Keith’s cock at a rapidly escalating pace, his hands flailing to grasp at anything - he ended up gripping his own hand in one hand again, his other coming down to tug on his cock. Keith forced his vision to focus once more on Lance instead of staring at the ceiling, cross eyed and hazy. Did he think that there was a god out there, floating somewhere in the cosmos? He’d been so wrong.

Lance was the only god he’d ever worship. 

He moved with the practiced grace of a dancer, with the fluidity of a flash flood crashing down a mountainside, and he took Keith out like so many trees in his path. He was vibrant and _alive_  atop him, riding him like he’d been born to do nothing else. His throat bobbed as he swallowed a gasp, and Keith couldn’t help but thrust upward; he wanted to hear Lance and his efforts were rewarded when Lance cried out, high pitched and erotic enough to make him sound like he was in a porno. Keith thrust up into him again, and again, over and over, meeting every downward thrust of Lance’s. Lance sobbed, the hand in his hair coming down to press two of his own fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around them briefly, and Keith could tell that he was barely able to concentrate on that. He drooled over his fingers and then brought them down to play with his own nipple, never ceasing in the up and down, grinding down and squirming up along Keith’s cock. 

Keith’s arms were burning and he knew he was bruising Lance’s ankles in his grip, but he didn’t care, didn’t think Lance would care either. In fact, Keith was unsure if Lance could register anything except the dick buried in his ass or the hand on his own cock. He thrust upward again and knew he’d struck Lance’s prostate by the way the blue paladin’s eyes flew open and his back bowed. His skin broke out into gooseflesh, raised all across his arms and down his chest. Keith smirked and gripped at Lance’s hips, thrusting up and aiming for his prostate again. Lance moaned, his furious pace never faltering. Keith felt like his hips might be bruised from the force of Lance slamming down on him, but maybe that would be a little payback for the purple ankle bracelets Keith was imprinting onto Lance. 

Keith batted Lance’s hand away from where it was pumping at his cock and took him in hand. Lance’s hands fell down to grip at Keith’s thighs and he whimpered, his pace finally wavering as Keith worked his hand over his dick, the leather of his gloves providing a friction he knew Lance adored. He never lasted long when Keith tugged on him while wearing those gloves, and Keith reveled in it. 

“K-Keith, babe, please, I _love_ -” 

Keith knew where Lance was going, couldn’t deal with hearing it at this moment; maybe in the next, or the one after that, but this moment was for sex, for drilling into Lance so hard that they both felt raw after. He squeezed his fist down on the head of Lance’s cock and twisted, and Lance’s words cut off mid-sentence. He wailed, grinding down on Keith’s snapping hips twice before he came into Keith’s fist. He exhaled a sharp breath, curling in on himself, his hands falling onto Keith’s chest as he shuddered and gasped around Keith’s cock. 

Lance was never more beautiful than when he was unmade and put back together on Keith’s cock, and it never failed to be Keith’s undoing. 

They’d done this so much that Lance inherently lifted his hips, allowing for Keith to hammer into him as fiercely as he could, the convulsions of Lance’s fluttering hole gripping and pulsing around him sending his balls to clenching. Stars, the bluest of stars, burst behind his eyelids, and he pushed hard into Lance once more before he emptied into him, mewling loudly as Lance purposefully clenched around him. His breath left his lungs like a punch to the gut and his eyes rolled back. His fingers bit into Lance’s hips, and he moaned a broken cry of his lover’s name as he felt the last weak pulse of his cock empty the final bit of his seed into him. 

Lance slowly, gently, lowered himself back down before Keith could soften, and Keith moaned at the sensation. Lance dropped down, falling over Keith’s panting form and caging him in with his arms. Sweat dripped down his sharp nose and dripped onto Keith’s cheek, and Keith brought shaky hands up to touch at Lance’s face. Lance grinned down at him, his lips trembling just enough to give life to the tension of emotions that were running high between them. Keith smiled back, wide and broad and relieved. 

He reached up and tugged on Lance’s hair.

“Ow! Mood killer much?” he whined.

“That’s for scaring me half to death,” Keith smirked. “Pull that shit again-”

“I know, I know. I love you too.”

Keith’s chest constricted, and he was sure Lance could hear his heart skip, but his smile wavered with emotion and he pressed forward and captured Lance’s lips in a wet, trembling kiss. He still didn’t feel like addressing those emotions from earlier; that could all be saved for once they were showered and tucked into bed, quiet and small and unimportant in the universe again. 

For now, it was enough that Lance was here, still joined, still alive, still keeping Keith safe and sane. Still loving him. Keith wrapped his arms around Lance, pulling him down to accept his full weight, to murmur against his lips.

“Love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't beta'd, I just needed to write some Klance smut.  
> My Voltron tumblr is [@klancin-with-myself](www.klancin-with-myself.tumblr.com), and I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> Title taken from Labryinth, because Bowie is the original Starman <3
> 
> comments fuel me and reading it but not leaving kudos if you liked it kills the fic writers.


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